One Hundred and Thirty-Six Scars(12)

Nudging his head to Hella and me, he took her hand in his. “Come, I want you to meet a couple people.”

Hella and I both looked up at her, her smile dropped when her eyes landed on me. I looked at Zane uneasily. He squeezed her hand. “Ma? This is Beast and Hella.” He pointed to us but her eyes hadn’t left mine. Uneasiness began to nestle deep inside me and my eyes drifted around our surroundings, weighing up our odds if things turned to shit.

“Nice to meet you,” I answered.

She shook her head, clutching the necklace that hung around her neck. “It can’t be…” she trailed off, taking her eyes off me, down to the dirt ridden ground.

“What does that mean?” I asked, looking to a now skeptical Zane. Not good, not good at all.

“I’m sorry,” her smile reappeared on her face. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. It’s just you shocked me. You look so similar to someone I once knew.” She shook her head, placing her hand out to me. “I’m Annabelle, it’s nice to meet you boys,” she answered politely, wrapping her cardigan around her waist. She was a small woman. I wondered idly how someone so large like Zane came from someone so petite as her. Looking up to her son, she murmured, “I’m just going to make a quick call. I’ll be back in a second.”

“Ma? What the hell is going on?” he asked, his head following her retreat.

She shook her head, turning back around and smiling. “Nothing, I hope. I hope it’s nothing,” she reiterated before she walked back into the bar.

Zane breathed out, taking a seat beside me. “What the hell is going on with her? I don’t know. She’s not normally like that,” he gestured toward the bar with his beer bottle.

“Look, I hate to ask this, but I need to. Will she—”

He shook his head, cutting me off. “Nah, you don’t need to worry about that. Ma is as loyal as they come. She passes everything by me, no-one else.”

Clenching my jaw together and fixing my eyes onto the hot burning flames, I raised the rim of my bottle to my lips. “I hope so.”





The next day, we left Abby’s home to head back to the compound. When we pulled in, a whole line of bikes were parked outside with a black van. I looked to Hella uneasily before bringing my eyes to Abby. “What’s this?” She entered through the large iron gates, shaking her head. “I’m not sure, but you can trust us,” she replied with certainty.

“You sure about this?” I asked raising my eyebrows to Hella after I rounded his side of the car.

“No. But I know we can trust Abby.”

“I trust no-one,” I growled, beginning my walk to the bar.

Sliding the doors open, the chattering dropped silent and all senses became heightened. The sweet but salty smell of bacon mixed with cigarettes and beer came barraging into me like a churn of pre-disaster. There’s another motorcycle club here, not the Sinful Souls. I looked closer to one of the men sitting closest to me, where his patch reads “The Devil’s Own” and then underneath it reads “Nevada” narrowing my eyes, I fixed them on Zane. Pushing his chair back, he made his way toward me. Clutching my shoulder with his hand, he nudged his head to the bar. “Come, I need to have a chat with you.”

On the corner of my eye, I see Hella looking at the crowd suspiciously, his stance changing to one that can only be described as a Pit Bull waiting for a fight. That’s Hella, always there ready to throw it down.

Zane shook his head. “Calm down, bro. No drama here. Come, I need to talk to Beast and I know you’ll be following too.” He began walking toward the back of the bar, swinging the half door open that led out back. I looked around at everyone that was sitting in the bar area, my eyes locked on the oldest one there, he had to be around his mid to late fifties. His eyes were boring into mine, and his hand covered his mouth when a set of whispers rounded off around the place.

What the fuck is this shit about?

Hella nudged my shoulder with his. “Let’s go. See what the fuck this is about.”

Walking into the back of the bar, Zane gestured toward the two seats he had pulled out at the table.

“What’s this about?” I asked, keeping my eyes locked on his and taking a seat.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he dropped them again, exhaling a gush of air. “Look, fuck. I’m just going to go out and say this because… well, because Luce doesn’t wait on anyone and he has given me ten minutes before he’s coming in.” Taking a stand from his seat, he looked to Hella, who was staring at him like Zane was his next meal. “Sit down, Hella. He’s fine.” Slowly lowering his body to the wooden chair, he kept his eyes locked with Zane, his jaw set and eyes dead.